From Lies To Rebellion
by Enderkiller77
Summary: Gambol Shroud feels heavier in your hands than it ever has before, blood stained blade and all.


You can't remember the first time you saw a protest sign. It's hard, pinpointing when you started fighting, though maybe you don't need to know exactly when you began. It's the end result that matters more than the beginning or middle. Well, that's what the elder members say to the new recruits and in whispers on the streets as they convince others to join the cause.

You aren't sure why the humans are so hateful, or why everyone constantly reminds you about all the pain they've caused your race. It's just another thing you guess you'll never understand, though you hate the fact that you don't fully know why.

In your mind, not knowing why the humans act like this feels like a failure on your part. Your only eight and you've already began what the older members call the 'searching period'.

Although it's not like they pay attention to your questions, just yelling at the oppressors and fighting for your rights is all you need to accomplish to gain freedom. That's what everyone says at least.

Your only a kid, so you do what they say even though your not sure why.

* * *

Despite the many bruises and cuts you've gotten from all the fights you've been in and all the rocks thrown at you, nothing truly prepares you for this. You and the other White Fang members watch in horror as the human police force spray a gas onto the crowd and everyone start to run. Some of the protestors try to throw rocks at the gas containers to make it stop, screaming at the rest to flee.

An intense stinging sensation covers your entire body, and you can't see due to the gas that has spread to you and the tears that are obscuring your vision. Everything hurts and your screams mix in with cries of agony from the other protestors.

You feel hands grab you and take you from the screaming crowd of Faunus, pushing you onto a truck filled with other White Fang members. Your attempts to wipe your eyes in order to see fail as you just hiss in more pain, because somehow your arms begin to feel like they are on fire and everything is going black and you just want this torture to stop.

(It's the next day that you wake up and realize that the vague taste of blood in your throat is nothing compared to the bile in your mouth when you see the corpses of Faunus line the streets)

* * *

It's heartbreaking as you see the television packed into the headquarters play your recent failed protest again, the human news reporters thinking it's funny to laugh at how many police personnel it took to restrain some animals from yelling.

The air is thick with silent anger, and you faintly hear whispers of fury from a scarred dog Faunus behind you about how much he wants to shoot the TV with the gun he got from the black market.

You bet he will, and you weren't disappointed when he shouts and lays fire to the mocking face of one of the reporters, who was right in the middle of saying the word 'freaks'.

To yourself, you wish you could have shot the TV as well.

* * *

The White Fang don't have very fancy funerals now that you think about it. Sobbing and horrible choking yells of pure anguish echo in the room filled with other White Fang members as they surround a pile of dead Faunus who were recently shot down by a mob of raging humans.

You bite your lip, drawing blood that trickles down as slow as your now formed tears. Another cat Faunus whispers how 'you shouldn't be here' to a goat Faunus and both of them go over to you and comfort you. The goat Faunus hugs you with assurances about how 'we'll get back at the filthy humans who did this'.

You believe them (and your belief comes true when you hear the screams of pain from the humans later).

* * *

A yawn signals how tired you are from too many late nights spent planning out how your weapon will correctly work. Blueprints lining a cluttered table filled with scarp metal and rope that you want to incorporate into your design. You've planned it out perfectly, gravity defying, swinging and all. Sadly, the problem of sleep is still there and you close your eyes even though you want to finish your weapon now.

Someone walks up behind you and covers you with a blanket, you mumble a thanks before scumming to the sweet embrace of sleep.

(In your dreams you think of the perfect name for your new weapon)

* * *

Your hands come in contact with a glass filled with dark purple liquid that you swig down in a few gulps. Nobody cares that your only thirteen and drunk because everyone is celebrating the fact that the White Fang destroyed its first dust mine. Laughing and careless sips of alcohol fill the headquarters and your eyes linger on another girl Faunus who's just, if not more, drunk as you.

(Just a month ago, you've noticed that you don't care for boys all to much in the romantic department, instead discovering how you stare at some of your fellow girl Faunus eyes and chests just a bit to long to be normal. Though, you'll never admit it because your already outcasted enough in society and you want to fit in with the norm even though you're sure no one cares)

Another glass of courage later you push away your doubt and you experience your first kiss, pinned on the wall and everything.

* * *

In a strange messed up way, you start to feel sympathy for the humans.

It starts as you see the sudden ambushes on lone, unlucky humans wandering the streets at night and the after effect when you notice the news blow it into a big headliner to ruin the White Fangs reputation more. It only makes the Faunus more ready to fight.

Slowly, your missions get more dangerous and tricky. Hacking a computer, threatening anti-Faunus benefactors, making graffiti propaganda, arson, the list would go on but you can't remember all of the assignments anymore.

The White Fang has made you and a more senior member of the group, a bull Faunus named Adam, into a mini infiltration team. Your both successful at it, having little to no trouble in stealth and kidnapping.

But after hearing the screams of mercy from a recently taken human, your starting to doubt if this is the right way to gain peace.

* * *

A few months later, you feel like crying as your mentor pats you on the back for a job well done. You don't show your disgust, you have been trained better after all, but you do shake off his praise far too quickly. Apparently it's an effective signal he takes to heart since he's left you alone now.

Gambol Shroud feels heavier in your hands than it ever has before, blood stained blade and all.

* * *

You start asking questions again, as now you're fourteen years old and you're rebellious against the violence overtaking the White Fang.

Then again you always have been against it, you were just to afraid to admit it.

Yelling and fights have now become reserved for protests against your own kind's violence, not the rallies on the streets that have long been replaced for the stealth and bombs of today. Your mentor is disappointed in you, and you can feel the held back scoldings in his aura despite how well he tries to hide it. He refuses to see your reasoning, and he won't say a word against his superiors.

You would pull an innocent act to trick him into answering but it wouldn't work, as your innocence had never flourished in the first place after all.

It would be as hopeless as this revolution.

* * *

They don't trust you enough anymore, your questioning is becoming annoying but your skills are too valuable to lose now, so they send you on less violent missions. You would be thankful if this wasn't all some facade in order to make you feel better through the pain you're causing innocents.

Adam doesn't hold back anymore as he rambles on about how you should feel more gratitude for how the White Fang has gotten the Faunus more rights. You yell back with the same force you did in your protests about how fear will never lead to true freedom. Both of you argue, and he drifts from you as far as your faith in the White Fang has.

(You start to plan to escape the next day)

* * *

Your plans are more vast than the sketches you made for Gambol Shroud, even though they aren't written down anywhere. Your mind wraps itself around the consequences of leaving and you lay in bed late at night, thinking of everything they could do to you.

A mission to wreck a Schnee dust train pops up and you and Adam are sent immediately with orders to bomb it. If successful, it will be another step towards 'freedom' for the White Fang Faunus. It's only another step towards more fear and foolishness in your opinion.

Your teacher asks if your ready, his voice the sternest you've ever heard it. With reluctance you say you are, but your not ready for what he wants you to be prepared for.

You are ready for escape.

* * *

You run your fingers over the blade of Gambol Shroud, careful not to cut yourself even in your nostalgic stupor. All the humans surrounding you are making you nervous, even though you know most of them won't care for another random seventeen year old sitting in the corner of the plane on it's way to Beacon. Your a student at this school now and your cleverly put together transcripts worked in hiding your involvement in the White Fang.

Your Faunus ears try to flick in discomfort but the bow you had put on earlier prevents it from moving. You tell yourself that the bow is necessary, without it you wouldn't be able to achieve equality.

It doesn't work and you know it's really hypocrisy to cover the very thing you want to be free. At least you have a chance now...

Right?


End file.
